


so i don't have to keep imagining

by beyondthestars



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, First Meetings, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Pining, sad killua, sunshine gon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondthestars/pseuds/beyondthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Killua's sad and Gon gets his coffee order wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so i don't have to keep imagining

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at introductions, I'm so sorry. Buuuuuuut, basically, this is my first time writing/posting for HxH fandom (not my first time writing/posting anything, though, been doing that for a while, eh). Hopefully, it doesn't suck and you actually like it, you kind people who decide to give me a shot. If you do like it (which would be kind of shocking) give me kudos or leave a comments, if you want. Oh well. Anyways, if you have any directions/advice/criticism, I'm open to it. Even more, it'd help me improve. So yeah (yeha, fucking yeha), hope you enjoy? :D ? xx. ?
> 
> P. S. This is my [tumblr](http://www.idiotgon.tumblr.com), if you want.

In some other life, Killua might’ve been some super hero, saving the world from evil, or evil creatures or maybe being a fuck up of some sort, but in this lifetime, he’s just a bloody Uni student. He’s been thinking about it a lot this morning, fussing over his ordinary life and ordinary, boring classes and friends who are not friends. He thinks that maybe, in his past life, he was something. Now, he guesses he has to be nothing.

He has his routine. After getting up in an early goddamn hour of the morning, he drags his ass to the lecture building that’s too fucking far away. He does his best to stay awake in most of his classes, but he mostly fails at doing so, rather sleeping through half of them. It’s the coffee that’s next on his list, and he gets it at this coffee shop not too far away from the building. It’s fine, mostly. At least it keeps him awake for the rest of the day, so he doesn’t complain.

Today, though, it all starts going downhill from the start. First, he doesn’t wake up on time because his phone has died again, so he’s jumping out of the bed twenty minutes too late. To make matters worse, it’s pouring outside, making it impossible for him to even try to make it on time. The wind is blowing his umbrella away, his jacket is covering his head but it mostly doesn’t get the job done because he’s soaking wet no matter what. His feet keep running into a mud, so once he makes it to the lecture building, he’s dirty, wet and out of breath. He curses his goddamn luck, and Uni, and fucking rain, and every single person in the building because they are _somehow not fucking dog-wet_ and how is that fair?

He thinks that maybe something has turned against him which wouldn’t be a surprise, honestly. If, somehow, his family has gotten some voodoo magic shit, and decided to use it against him, it would be almost expected. They hate his guts anyway, the family of fucking criminals. Honestly, and they’re surprised he’s studying law. They still didn’t grasp the fact that he wants a completely different lifestyle. Fortunately, he hasn’t heard from them in a long time. He wants it to stay that way as long as it can.

Because of the unfortunate events, he doesn’t sleep in classes. He gets a few weird looks when he stays awake. Well, it is quite a weird sight, he has to admit it himself. He still doesn’t pay much attention, though. It’s not in his blood, probably. He memorises things easily, the thing is, so paying much attention in class makes no sense to him. It’s boring stuff anyway. Nothing he can’t read in those bloody books he gave his money for.

He doesn’t talk to people, which is nothing surprising. There are only two guys that he can stand for maybe five minutes, Kurapika and Leorio. But they’re older than him so he doesn’t see them much. Not like he wants to or anything. He’s not used to having friends anyway, so he thinks he’s better off without them.

It’s early in the afternoon when he’s finally out of that cursed building and this time, it’s not raining. The wind is still strong though, so Killua’s doing his best not to be blown away. He’s not the heaviest, okay?

A few minutes later, he’s running into _his_ coffee shop, feeling relief washing over him as soon as the warmth of the place hits him in the face. The shop is mostly empty, safe from two teenage girls and one man sitting alone. The thing that is different, though, is the waiter. He’s used to seeing Palm – a woman in her thirties that’s been working here as long as Killua can remember. So seeing a different face today can just be added to his list of “Things gone wrong today”. He curses under his breath as he approaches the bar where some guy’s wiping up the glasses. Killua can’t see his face and he’s damn sure the guy didn’t even hear him come in which, really? He could be a robber. Somebody could rob this place without the guy even noticing. Talking about responsibility.

He clears his throat in an attempt to get his attention. The guy jumps half a meter in the air, knocking one of the glasses in the process. Fortunately, it doesn’t break. How, Killua doesn’t even want to question it. He debates between an eye roll, slapping himself, or both, when the guy finally turns around to face him. There’s an immediate smile on his lips, almost as if it’s automatic and Killua wonders how he manages that. He thinks that it might be one of the reasons why he got the job.

“Hello, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. My name is Gon and I’ll be serving you today. How may I help you?” _Idiot,_ is the first word that comes to Killua’s mind. Okay, the gu- _Gon_ may be new and he may be concerned for his job right now, but these kind of formalities? Yeah, they were ridiculous. Killua almost laughs. Almost.

“Um, I’ll have one large mocha to go, thanks.” He murmurs but luckily, Gon catches on and he smiles even brighter than before. Killua doesn’t understand how somebody can smile that much but he doesn’t question it. Just because he’s not a ball of sunshine, doesn’t mean others can’t be.

Gon turns around, scratching at his unruly, short hair. It has a little specs of green, shining, just like the person itself. Killua takes in his slim frame and his sharp features. He takes in his tan skin and fast, busy hands. He’s a complete contrast of Killua – who’s pale to the point where he’s almost transparent – hair white and eyes blue. He finds it interesting, seeing a person so different, yet feeling oddly calm around him. Usually, he’d run away as fast as he could. Now, he feels like staying for another five minutes isn’t such a bad idea.

He taps his fingers as he waits. Still, a part of him can’t wait to get away. He just needs to get his coffee and then he can be back on his way to the dorm. But it seems to take forever to Gon to make this coffee – or maybe the time passes by too slowly for Killua. He doesn’t know the right answer.

It’s probably a minute later that his coffee finally arrives, in a red, paper cup. Gon has a smile on his face, which seems to be rather usual, and Killua thinks that maybe he should return it but he quickly wipes the thought out of his mind. Gon is a stranger. He doesn’t know him. And just because he smiles a lot, doesn’t immediately mean Killua should smile back. His brain should stop thinking of such ridiculous things.

“Here you go. Hope it’s all good.” Gon says, his eyes sparkling and Killua thinks how he’s never seen a person with this much happiness. It radiates, all around him, and it’s addicting. Killua’s too strong to get sucked in by it though.

“Thank you.” He murmurs again and hands Gon the money. He wants to get away. He can’t take this anymore – human interaction and sunshine-y personality. It’s too much. It’s suffocating. So he says goodbye and turns around, almost running towards the door. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is supposed to make him feel good. He should want to talk to people more. And again, he can’t. There’s fear, creeping up inside of him. Stopping him from being a human. He thought that, maybe, there will be a day where he’d be able to be normal – when the right person came along. It looks like he was wrong. He is always wrong.

He walks faster than usual, getting away from the cursed coffee shop as fast as he can. The coffee is hot in his hands. It burns his fingers but he doesn’t let go. It sooths him, in some way. It calms his mind. Makes him feel a little bit more in control.

He peels off the lead, making sure the coffee doesn’t spill. Closing his eyes, he gets the cup closer to his lips, taking the sip. The moment it touches his tongue, he’s spilling it all over sidewalk. That _definitely_ isn’t mocha. It tastes of whiskey and something mixed and it’s gross and fucking hell, he didn’t ask for this.

“What the fuck?” He says out loud without meaning to. Shit, it has to be today, huh? That idiot just _had_ to mess up his coffee order on this day? Is universe against him? Is he going to get hit by a car now or something? Is this the end? He almost screams, but thinks they’ll probably put him to the bedlam if he does that. So he keeps it bottled in and, once he turns around, he’s stomping towards that fucking coffee shop again. He really is cursed.

Half of the coffee spills on his way back but he can’t care less. If children and drunk people can spill their drinks every fucking day, then he can, too. Sure. Of course. It makes perfect sense. Oh, fuck it.

In his rage, he’s back even faster than he got away. He doesn’t know how, doesn’t care enough to think much about it, but he’s glad because he’s wasted enough time in this coffee shop as it is. He storms in, almost slamming the door in the process, but he restrains himself.

“Can you, for fuck’s sake, explain me what is this…. this whiskey coffee doing in my cup instead of a mocha? Are you an idiot? I’m not drinking this! Did you want to get me drunk or something? Are you a psycho? Are you even-“

“You’re Killua right?” Gon stops him in his rage rant and it’s only then that Killua looks at him without seeing red first. Although, Gon his blushing from head to toe. His cheeks are coloured crimson red, his hands gripping the counter before him. His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth and he looks as if he’s going to die from the embarrassment. Wait…. How does he know Killua’s name? Has Killua heard him right? He’s more than certain he didn’t give him his name. What the fuck?

“…Yes. How the fuck do you know that?” His ton is sharper than he intends it to be, but he’s glad regardless. The sharper the better.

“Well…. Uhhhhh….” He scratches his neck and looks away from Killua, his cheeks somehow becoming redder. “You see, we have some classes together, so I’ve seen you around. We’re on the same year and stuff… it’s kind of hard _not_ to notice you – with that hair and all. And I’ve always wanted to, you know, approach you and talk to you, but you never seem to notice everyone or anything around you and you always seem unapproachable, so I was always too afraid to try.

So when you finally walked in here on my shift, I kind of wanted to talk to you. But I didn’t know how. So messing up your coffee order seemed like a good idea at a time. Because you’d notice and you’d come back and then maybe, you know, I thought I’d have more courage. Which, I’m rambling now, I’m sorry. I’ll give you what you’ve ordered now and then you can leave. I was out of bounds, I’m really sorry.”

Killua keeps standing there and stares at Gon without saying a word. His thoughts are swimming. His head is buzzing with everything Gon’s just said. He should probably freak out now. Illumi’s told him a hundreds of times nobody can like him anyway. So he should know better than believe pretty words when they could easily be a lie. And still, he isn’t running. He isn’t taking a step back. Instead, he feels his lips forming something weird – something unknown to him. He thinks they probably call it a smile. He’s seen it on other people, millions of time, Gon included, but he is a person that smiles rarely – almost never. Feeling his lips lifting up, just a little, just enough, he’s not sure if he wants to stop it. He’s not sure how this… this person could make him smile. He doesn’t have the right answer yet. But a part of him feels oddly at peace. He’s almost certain he wants to feel like that again.

“It’s fine.” He finds himself saying. “Maybe I could use a friend… or something.” Fuck, fuck, maybe he’s reading this all wrong. Maybe this guy just wanted to talk to him once or twice. He’s never mentioned a word “friend”. Fuck. No going back now. “If you want, of course. I’m sorry if…. If that’s not what you want. I didn’t mean to jump-“

“Okay. Sure. I’d be more than happy to be your friend.” Gon cuts him off and Killua’s, once again, left standing dumbfounded. He recovers more quickly this time though, so he approaches the counter and sits down on a bar chair.

“Okay, idiot, where’s my coffee then?"

He has a feeling this could be something great.


End file.
